Written on Glass
by april09-TW
Summary: Fog, shadows, and finger-tracings on glass. An all-human take on the Cullen family and what Edward is hiding. An experiment with Feb 2012 WitFit prompts.
1. Chapter 1: Bangle, Wrangle, Tangle

**A/N:** Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight, no copyright infringement intended. **  
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**Disclaimer:** There may be some controversial material in this story later on. I am hoping to treat the subject matter with the respect it deserves.**  
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**Chapter One**

**Word Prompts: Bangle, Wrangle, Tangle**

It isn't raining, for once, as we pull into school, but Ally and I are still running late. The usual. We can blame it on the fog, the solid mass of grayness that rolled in with the tide, making the day appear gray on gray. It's thicker today, the fog, heavy with whatever is weighing it down, obscuring my vision until the last possible moment. Of course, I don't have to worry about getting into an accident, as any opposing driver can hear us coming a mile away in my trusty old truck. As if on cue, the engine backfires as I pull into one of the specially-designated senior spots closer to the entrance.

"Good eye," Ally compliments. Truly it's amazing that we snagged the spot or that I was able to see it at all. We scramble out of the cab and grab our bags. Ally has traded in her backpack for a medium sized macramé purse that holds her pastels, pens, and make-up only so she reaches back for two heavy textbooks just as the bell rings. Despite my best efforts, we are late.

"Just go on," I say, waving her off. "I'll explain to Mrs. Jones."

I leave Ally in front of the art room then run into the front office, awaiting the wrath of Mrs. Jones, our not-Principal, our not even interim-Principal, but our disciplinarian nonetheless.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Jones," I say as soon as I swing one of the heavy blue doors open. "There was so much traffic and—"

Instead of just Mrs. Jones, with her shockingly white-blond puff of curls and red cat-eye glasses, three other bodies turn to face me. I twirl my new yellow Lucite bangle on my left wrist over and over. I've forgotten my watch, again, and Mrs. Jones zeroes in on my movements and nods her head accordingly.

"Have a seat, Ms. Swan," she says, dismissively. "I assume your sister is in class?" I nod my head and sink down on the vinyl blue couch in the corner. While the couch is likely from the same decade as my "new" bracelet, it definitely does not qualify as vintage. In fact, I think that it's one of the original pieces of furniture from when the school first opened its doors. In 1965.

The three strangers—new students by the look of their fresh-looking uniforms—turn back to face Mrs. Jones who is pointing out their schedules.

I continue to twist my yellow bracelet round and round, letting the skinnier end rub against my skin reassuringly. It's a thrift shop find that my Mom brought back from her most recent business trip and I love it. The old school plastic sticks to my skin slightly.

As I ponder whether or not Mrs. Jones will give me a detention or not, I study the newcomers. The girl's blonde locks are curled to perfection and her pleated plaid skirt is rolled up at least twice at her waist, just like the rest of us. One of the two boys with her—her brothers, I presume—has the same shade of light sunshine yellow hair, just slightly long for this school's regulations. While they all share the same fair coloring—at least what I can tell from the boys' forearms, the last boy has darker hair. In fact, the hairs on his forearms appear reddish in places, at least under the fluorescent office lights.

Mrs. Jones summons me with her hand while the trio walks away and the girl glares at me as she catches me staring at them. _Yeah. I'm not sure why I'm studying forearms either, Blondie._

-o0o-

The fog lifts by the time I make it to third period, which cheers me up since it's the only class that I hate. Biology. Again. With _sophomores_. It's my third time taking the class and there's only so much I can do. I trudge into class just as the bell rings and toss my backpack onto my lab table haphazardly, as is my usual, only this time it lands on top of someone else's stuff.

It's the new kid. The non-blonde one. "Hey non-blonde," I say. My filter is off, clearly. At least there's something interesting going on in Biology.

"Uh, hi non-blonde," he shoots back, with an arched eyebrow, waving one hand at my obviously brown locks.

"You a sophomore?"

"Nope. You?"

"Nope."

"Why are you in this class then?"

"I'm repeating it." There. Now he just thinks I'm dumb.

"I never took it at my old school."

"Hmm," I respond, then slide onto my stool. I'm not used to sharing my lab table—this has been my spot for two years. My first lab partner switched out on my midway through our first semester during our sophomore year. Banner didn't bother replacing her and didn't give me a partner the following year or this year either. It's like he relishes keeping me back.

"Mr. Cullen, Ms. Swan," Mr. Banner intones from behind us. His classroom has an office and supply area at the back and he delights on sneaking up on students when we're unaware. The bell has not rung yet and there are just a few other students in the room. "Since you two are the _oldest_ students here, I thought I'd partner you together."

The rest of the hour goes by uneventfully, unless you count me staring at Cullen's forearms as an event. I can't help it—I'm disturbingly mesmerized by the fact that his hair is an odd shade of brown, not quite ginger, not quite brunette. Plus, he's got this odd leather wristband with a cameo of a lion design on it. It looks vintage, except the leather makes it look more modern.

"Nice bracelet," Cullen says, right as the bell rings. He point to the yellow bangle I've been twisting around and around to pass the time since I don't need to take notes in this class.

"You too, Non-Blonde," I respond.

"It's a cuff," he says, grabbing his backpack with ease. "And, my name is Edward Cullen."

I nod, my lips quirking up in a smile despite myself. Apparently, _Edward_ is much friendlier than his sister. "Bella Swan," I toss out over my shoulder as I walk away.

When I leave school for the day, I pass by my locker to drop off my books. Inside is a CD case that doesn't belong to me. Scrawled on the cover is "What's Up? Four Non Blondes, Acoustic". I'm so impressed that he caught my reference that it takes me a full minute to wonder how the heck he got into my locker in the first place.

-o0o-

I make my way to the office again for my daily afternoon argument with Mrs. Jones. Maybe this will be the day that she gives in.

When I arrive, she is already at the counter, waiting for me. "You're going to be late for detention, Isabella," she says as soon as I step into the room.

_Fuck. I forgot about detention._

I glance at my left wrist, where my yellow bracelet is located instead of my watch and shrug my shoulders. "I still have five minutes or so." She's hiding a smile behind her stern exterior; I can feel it. "So," I continue. "Any chance I can switch into Home Ec?"

"Do you want to drop Bio?"

"There must be something I can do."

"You know it's not up to me."

Our words are scripted. I know it's not up to her; Banner is adamant that I complete the class. My shoulders slump and she asks more softly, "Unless you want that 'Incomplete'."

"An 'Incomplete' is worse than failing," I counter. My hair rushes to my face as the front door opens and closes behind me. Another student has joined us. "There must be another class I could switch into."

"You already know the possibilities."

I'm about to refute her or ask for another meeting with the principal and my parents when I hear a throat clearing behind me. "Excuse me, Mrs. Jones. Here are the attendance slips for me and my brother and sister."

It's Edward. I'm not sure how much of our conversation he's heard but I am too angry to turn around and ask him about the CD.

"Thank you, Mr. Cullen. You may go," Mrs. Jones answers him then turns to me. "Well, Ms. Swan?"

"Until tomorrow."

I turn and catch a glimpse of Edward as he opens the double bars of the door with great force. _What's his problem?_

Then I notice the fact that he has changed out of his uniform and into an old Smiths tee shirt and track shorts. His legs are toned like that of a runner's. The boy is going to be the death of me.

-o0o-

Forty-five minutes later, I am dragging my stuff behind me and heading for the truck where Ally is likely waiting for me. I'm sure I am a mirror image of Pig Pen as I trek down the parking lot, puffs of chalk dust billowing behind me with every stride. Detention sucks, but especially more so on Fridays when teachers love to have their chalk and dry erase boards cleaned, and erasers clapped empty.

Ally is sitting in the truck bed edge with the other Cullen brother keeping her company. She's smiling in a way I haven't seen in a long time and she doesn't notice me until I am two feet away.

"Hi. I'm Bella," I say. "I'd shake your hand but…" I gesture to the thin coating of chalk on my hands.

"Jasper," he says with a wide smile.

"Hi, Blondie," I smile back.

"Ew, Bella. Why didn't you wash your hands?" Ally hands me a baby wipe from her macramé bag. I can't believe all the non-essentials she keeps with her.

"Looks like they're finishing up." Jasper nods over to the track where his brother and sister are stretching side by side. "Nice to meet you."

"Likewise."

Ally and I drive home, and she doesn't expand upon the details of her new acquaintance. Thinking of my new CD, I let her have her thoughts for a while. My trusty old truck spouts puffs of smoke from its exhaust pipe behind us, like empty cartoon thought bubbles trailing us home.

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**A/N:** 1) Four Non-Blondes, "What's Up" youtube (dot) com/watch?v=6NXnxTNIWkc&ob=av2e

2) Pig Pen is a character from Charles Schwartz' _Peanuts_ aka the Charlie Brown comic strip


	2. Chapter 2: Shadow

**Chapter Two**

**Word Prompt 2: Shadow + Audio Visual Image: truck scene, shadows of trees, thick limbs ****www . fictionistaworkshop . com**witfit/2012-02-02

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The trees line the road like sentinels, keeping visitors on the straight and narrow, keeping them from straying onto other territory. The bark is dark, limbs thick with multiple branch points, perfect for treehouse-making. I don't think anyone would dare mar the austere beauty of these trunks however. In fact, the stillness, the beauty, the rigidness remind me of my companion: Rosalie, cold welcomer to the island. An oxymoron if I ever heard one.

When Edward suggested that we meet at his house to do our joint biology-photography project, I didn't realize that the Cullen family lived on their own island. Their own _private_ island. Well, mostly private, anyway.

The ferry drops me off at a dock and Rosalie taps her feet impatiently as I look in awe around me. Across the way, the city buildings are _just_ visible beyond the ever-present mist.

"Hi Rosalie," I greet, politely. "Thanks for meeting—"

"Edward was still running," she interrupts. It's the only words she'll say to me that day.

"It's beautiful here," I say, fidgeting with the straps of my backpack. "How long have you lived here?"

Silence.

"I mean, did you guys just move here? Or, have you always had this place? Island? Whatever?" I'm babbling. I'm nervous, I realize. I should have just met Edward at Alki Beach, my original plan.

Still silence.

"I mean, I think I heard you moved from Chicago?"

Nothing.

The trees keep me company as she walks slightly ahead of me, leading me up the paved pathway towards their house, I assume. Her cream-colored scarf blows slightly in the wind and contrasts with the dark brown of her bomber jacket. I shiver slightly and zip up my trusty peacoat. We're a dichotomy—she in neutrals, me in bright aquamarine wool with a red knit beanie.

The trees soldier on, so dark and uniform that I can cut out their silhouettes with my hands. I want to ask her what type they are but I have a feeling she won't answer. Edward and I can look them up as part of our project.

The Cullens' house looks more like a _building_ than a home, though I guess any house is a building. It's enormous and looks like it should be a museum of some sort, rather than a place where a family lives. There are glass windows that rise from floor to ceiling, juxtaposed with steel beams and concrete walls with sharp angles and clean vertical and horizontal lines. It looks modern, expensive, cold; it is a sharp contrast to the natural surroundings of the island.

When we get to the end of the long driveway leading up to his house, Edward greets us by bounding—actually _bounding_—down the stairs. He's barefoot and wearing low slung jeans and a faded black tee shirt that is so old that whatever was screen-printed on it is no longer decipherable. A rock band, maybe? His hair is wet and he's obviously taken a shower after his run.

Despite what initially seems like eagerness to meet us, his face is solemn and I can't read his expression. He and his sister appear to have some sort of non-verbal communication with each other as he nods slowly to her as if he's dismissing her.

"Hey," I say to break the shifting tension. It cloaks these Cullens, morphing from anger and distance to uncertainty. Yet it lingers, nonetheless.

"I'm sorry to make you travel all this way—"

"I don't mind. The view is fantastic and we'll likely get better pictures—" I interrupt and he interrupts me in turn.

"I mean, I'm sorry because I already finished the assignment." He hands me an expensive-looking SLR digital camera.

"What?" I sputter.

"I got some shots of a paper birch grove and a Pacific Dogwood in bloom when I was out running."

"What?"

"You can check them out…they're more than acceptable."

Now I'm angry. Does he think that I'm incapable of doing the assignment? Is he assuming that I need help just because I have to repeat Biology _again_? He hasn't even asked why I'm repeating the class.

"I'm perfectly capable of contributing to the project."

"I know. I just—"

"I'm not stupid, you know—"

"I know—"

"I did the same project last year and got an 'A'." In fact I got A's on all my biology assignments and tests.

"Then why—"

"I'm repeating Bio because I refused to dissect a mouse last year and the year before. Banner's an a-hole." I walk away from him, frustrated that I told him my reasoning and wondering what I'll do to kill the time before the ferry returns. I storm back down the paved road, fuming at the standing soldier trees as I pass each one. I'm sure Edward has identified their species as well.

He calls my name, but I do not turn around. He doesn't follow me, either. It's an island and I have no boat. How far can I get?

When I reach the last pair of trees, I stop and pull my phone out of my bag. The resolution won't be as good but I focus on some of the bare branches anyway. I'm unsure if I'll be able to use the shots since we have to follow a progression and I don't think I'll be coming back to this island any time soon. I step further into the road to get a wider shot, maybe of the series of trees altogether, when I notice that Edward is still standing where I left him. Despite the cold, he is barefoot and jacketless, his loose tee shirt waving in the wind. He is a silhouette of sadness, but I have no idea why he would be melancholy. Still, his image contrasts with the bare-branched tree soldiers and I wish I could get a shot of their juxtaposition on my phone. It's no matter—the image will stay with me for days.

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**A/N**: Link to house on Mercier Island (not necessarily the same island where they live): homegallerydesign luxury-family-house-design-with-exposed-steel-bridge-ideas


	3. Chapter 3: Sip

**Chapter Three**

**Word Prompt:Sip**

**Plot Generator-Phrase Catch: Timing is everything**

I ignore Edward as I turn my first photos and botanical description in to Banner. Banner smirks at me and says, "I hope these are new specimens, Ms. Swan."

I nod my head and refrain from rolling my eyes. Just because he's an ass doesn't mean I have to be visibly disrespectful. It only goads him.

Edward turns his project in as well and Banner glances at his papers before turning towards both of us.

"Why do you have two projects, Ms. Swan?"

"I don't," I answer. "Just the Garry Oaks and the tulip bulbs."

He taps Edward's photos and shakes his head. "And the Pacific Dogwood and paper birches?"

"That's not mine. We decided to work separately."

"No. We're working together," Edward says.

"Separately."

Banner _tsks_ once before taking a Sharpie out of his back pocket and crossing my name off of Edward's project.

"Why did you do that?" I hiss at Edward, breaking my vow to ignore him. "Are you _trying_ to make me look bad?"

"No." He shifts slightly in his seat before adding, "Did you get home okay?"

I don't answer him. I'm sure he already knows that I sat for half an hour on the dock, determined to wait for the ferry, when his brother snuck up on me taking pictures of the city. He offered to convey me himself, though I think it was a thinly veiled attempt to invite himself over to my house to visit my sister.

I look straight ahead for the rest of the class, pulling my hair out of its ponytail and letting it shield me like a curtain. The rest of the day is a study in avoidance—I try my best not to look his way in the hallways and at lunchtime. Though, it's kind of hard _not_ to notice someone you're studiously trying to ignore. So, I notice when Lauren walks up to him and his family, attempting to sit at their table. I also notice when she walks away after his sister gives her a death glare. It's good to know that those aren't reserved just for me.

After the bell rings, I make my way to AP Physics and slink into my desk, the one in the corner, closest to the door. Other students file in around me and someone stops mid-stride next to my desk. I recognize the beat-up black Converse peeking out below his khaki uniform pants.

"What are you doing here?" Edward asks.

"I'm in class," I mutter after it's obvious he doesn't understand that I'm ignoring him. "We rotate—this should be whatever your 'C' period is," I add, referring to our school's schedule of keeping our first two periods the same but rotating the rest of the classes throughout the week.

"This _is_ my new period C. I transferred in now that my school records have come in."

"Oh." _Does this mean he's not in Bio anymore? No, he was there earlier today._

"You're in AP Physics?"

"Fuck you." He looks taken aback at my response, but really, why does he think I'm dumb? I'm beginning to wish I could hold to my mission of ignoring him.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean—"

I open up my notebook and textbook angrily and stop listening to him. Finally, he shuffles towards the front of the room to talk to Mrs. Gulch.

-o0o-

When Ally and I arrive home from school that day, someone is waiting on the steps of our front porch. Even though his face is in his hands, and his hair is now so short it stands up on its own, I'd know that silhouette anywhere.

"JJ!" Ally claps her hands together as she runs out of the truck to greet him. He looks up, smiling wryly at her enthusiasm.

"Hey you!" I shout, just as gleefully. Ally beats me to him and he manages to stand up just in time for her to fling herself at him. I join in behind her, so I'm basically smushing her in the middle.

"How're my girls?" he teases.

"Great! I'll get the cocoa ready." Ally darts into the house, tossing her stuff just inside the door. I place my books down next to hers.

"And it's 'James' now," he shouts at Ally's retreating form.

"Whatever, Jimmy," she and I say at the same time.

"Jinx," we both say, and she turns around the give me her pinky. We link up, shake our pinkies three times, then let go.

"I swear you two are actually twins," Jimmy rolls his eyes.

"Well, we have to make our wish," Ally explains and scampers back towards the kitchen.

"Are you coming in?" I motion for us to follow her.

"Uh, I better not."

"My dad's not here."

"Still…he did say he better not find me in his house again or he'd shoot me."

"But, you're _here_," I point out the obvious.

"I'm not _inside_ the house."

"Whatever." I pause to take him in; he's changed so much since that day Dad threatened him. "So, what's up with the hair?" I lean forward to muss up the gel in his short and spiked blonde locks. "No more ponytail?"

"No," he leans into me, closing the gap, almost as if he's going to kiss me.

"Hey," I say softly but firmly as I stop him by placing my hand on my chest. "I don't think your girlfriend would appreciate that."

He backs away sheepishly. "Victoria wouldn't mind," he states but instead of sounding smug like he usually does when teasing me, he sounds sad.

"Jimmy?"

"She dumped me. Met some other guy."

"I'm sorry."

"Now will you kiss me?" He's smiling this time so I now he's teasing.

"Ew, Jimmy, stop hitting on Bells," Ally admonishes as she hands out our steaming mugs from a tray. Mexican hot chocolate, our tradition. The three of us sit on the porch and sip our drinks until my mom comes home.

"James," she says after she gives him a warm hug. "You better get going before my husband gets home."

He nods, understanding that she has forgiven him. "Good seeing you, B," he hugs me goodbye and Ally walks him down the driveway.

"Bella," my mom says with a smile. "I'm assuming this is for you?" She is holding a CD case in her hand. "It was with the mail."

I peek at the cover and recognize the handwriting. Of course I do; I have a similar CD case that I found in my locker not too long ago. "Thanks, Mom," I say then run up to my room to listen to what Edward has sent.

-o0o-

When we pull up to school the next day, Rosalie is waiting for us at the entrance. Or, I guess, waiting for me as she comes charging up to the truck, blonde hair flying behind her.

"Where is he?" she nearly shouts. "What did you _say_ to him?"

She's in my face and quite a few heads have turned in our direction as I've barely made my way out of the truck. Ally is suddenly by my side, pushing gently back on Rosalie's chest to give me some personal space.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Ally says, as I seem to have gone mute. It's all a little too melodramatic for me.

Rosalie looks around her and tones down her voice. I guess the drama with an audience is too much for her too. "My brother."

"I haven't seen him since yesterday."

"I know. He never came home."

"Wait," I say. "I haven't seen him since we were _in class_ together yesterday."

Rosalie backs off as I shut my door. "But," she says more quietly. "He went by your house after school...he went running in that direction."

"Rosalie," I start slowly. I'm pissed that she's attacking me, but most of all I'm confused. "He dropped…something off in my mailbox. I don't know when. But, I never saw him."

She takes a deep breath as if she is going to respond to what I've told her, but then she walks away. "Wait, Rose," I say. "What's going on? Is he okay?" She continues her long strides away from us, shaking her head slightly.

Her other brother is running out of the entrance—I suppose Jasper has just realized what Rosalie is doing and they talk quickly to each other. In fact, even from this distance, I'm uncertain if they are even listening to each other as both of their mouths are moving non-stop. They look back towards me and Ally; I suppose she regrets saying anything at all.

Ally and I, on the other hand, are shocked in place. "I haven't had enough caffeine for this," I mutter as we gather up our things for school.

"B," she responds, placing one hand on my arm. "I'm sure he's fine." Her reassurance is just enough to keep me sane, especially when Rosalie and Jasper head back into their brother's car, without him, and drive out of the parking lot, tires screeching loudly in our ears.


	4. Chapter 4: Stagger

**Chapter Four**

**Word Prompt: Stagger**

Edward doesn't show up for school the next day, even though his brother and sister return. Neither of them gives an explanation for Rosalie's verbal attack of me in the parking lot the previous morning.

Between second and third period, however, Ally seeks me out even though her next class is on the other side of campus. "He's okay," she whispers. "Jasper says he's staying with some relatives in Alaska."

"Is he coming back?"

"Supposedly," she shrugs.

"Thank you," I hug my sister and make my way to AP Physics. I think I spend most of the period staring at his empty chair than listening to Mrs. Gulch's lecture, but at least I'm not as worried about him anymore.

Each night I listen to the mixed CD he made me, as well as the Four Non-Blondes single. Each morning, I watch to see if he'll walk up the long parking lot or show up in Biology. When Monday rolls around and he _still_ hasn't returned, I decide to send him a message.

"Not sure if you know these," is what he scrawled on the CD. I'm trying to figure out the connection. Unlike the first CD he gave, he didn't label any of the songs. I dub it the 'apology' mixed CD even though not one song is a direct apology. Or an apology in any sense of the word.

Every song is a story. Every song is from the nineties. I know; I am my mother's daughter and when I was little, I'd listen to all of these songs with her. Ally laughs at my knowledge of nineties music but I think she's jealous of this connection I have with Mom.

In the lunch line, I plan my attack. I lean over and tap Jasper on the shoulder as he's standing slightly ahead of me in the line next to me, waiting for his order.

"Give me his email address," I order. No pleasantries, no explanation.

He smiles nonetheless, borrows a pen from one of the lunch ladies, and tears off part of the wrapper from his burrito.

"Maybe he'll come back sooner," he whispers to me as he hands me the small slip of paper.

"Don't you know?"

"No. Our dad drove over there this weekend to bring him his…some stuff. I thought he was going to bring him home.

"Don't tell Rose I told you," he adds.

I frown while pocketing the slip of paper. "Why are you afraid of Rose?" The shortened version of her name sounds odd coming from me.

"I'm not," he nods, but looks back at where she's sitting at their table, alone, waiting for him. "I…let's just say that I owe her."

I rip off a piece of his wrapper as well and write something on it and hand it back to him with a smile. "Thank you."

I quickly finish my lunch then run up to the computer lab before my next class.

Before I lose my nerve, I type in the email address that I haggled with Jasper for. Edward for Alice.

I don't type anything in the message. Just a link to a song.

-o0o-

Friday arrives with no responses to my daily emails to Edward, and no return of him in person either. Maybe he's transferring to some school in Alaska. Maybe his brother and sister will join him, though the Cullens have only been here for a few weeks and word is that their dad is some big shot surgeon and teaches at the medical school at U Dub. Not exactly an easy job to transfer out of.

Angela drops me off quickly at my driveway and I wave her off so she doesn't wait for me to get in the house. I can see the tell-tale sign of the television on in my living room by the flickers against the curtains so I know my parents are home anyway. She's running close to her curfew time and I don't want her to push her luck with her parents.

Similar to last week, there is someone sitting on the steps of the porch, but this time it's not Jimmy. Even though it is dark out, I can see his silhouette against the bright porch lights, artfully disheveled hair like a halo in every direction.

The prodigal…friend? Lab partner? Whatever.

Edward stands as I walk up the pathway and that's when I realize it: he's drunk, beyond wasted, swaying slightly with the breeze.

"You're back, Bell-a," he slurs, emphasizing the break in my name.

"I should say the same to you," I smile. "What…what are you doing here?"

"Waiting for you?" he rakes one hand through his lion's mane.

"Waiting for me. Drunk."

"No!" he shouts.

"Do my parents know you're out here?" I whisper.

"No." He's no longer shouting, but he's not whispering either. It's more like a medium loud. "I went to the party, looking for you. Your sister said you went to the movies." He gestures over to where Angela dropped me off and almost hits me in the process. I catch his arm and circle my hand around his wrist, uncertain enough not to twine my fingers with his.

"You need to sober up," I say, dragging him towards the front door. "Did you drive here?"

"No." He pulls back from me quickly. "What are you doing?"

"Hush," I say, unlocking the door, but not walking in.

"Mom!" I shout, even though the foyer leads to the living room. I know without looking that she and my dad are likely snuggled on the couch. Movie night. I duck my head in, anyway, and I'm right. "I'm going to get pancakes."

"Okay, honey," her voice calls out. "You can take my car."

"And make sure that boy doesn't drive," my dad calls after her. "Give him some coffee."

I roll my eyes and glance over at Edward. His head is in his hands and he groans softly.

"Come on," I lead him to my truck and let him in. "Let's sober you up."

As soon as I start the engine, he looks around him and says, "Your mom has a truck like yours?"

"Edward, this _is_ my truck," I say, laughing and rolling my eyes.

"But your mom said—"

"I know. She thinks Ally took my truck to the party, but your brother actually picked her up."

"Jasper?"

"You got another brother?"

"Oh. No."

As we drive towards the cafe, Edward babbles about looking for me at the party, about talking to Ally, about random lyrics to one of the songs I sent him and briefly about going to Alaska. He's still slurring a bit and talking quite quickly for someone so inebriated, yet it's the most relaxed I've seen him since we first met. That first day he seemed friendly enough, then his demeanor slowly devolved into more of a standoff-ish air.

"_They cannot move you, no one tries…I was made with a heart of stone_…then I dropped of that CD and saw you kissing your boyfriend-"

"Wait, Edward," I finally interrupt. I pull into the parking lot and turn towards him. "I don't have a boyfriend."

"Who's the blond douche, then?"

"Um, you mean Jimmy?"

"Yeah. Jimmy," he mumbles a string of profanities.

"Ally's brother?" My voice rises at the end like I'm unsure, just because I'm uncertain why I would be so unlucky as to have Edward run by my house at the exact moment that Jimmy was trying and failing to kiss me. Such is life.

"Ally's brother?" Edward parrots, then laughs uncontrollably for a good minute. His eyes crinkle up and he's holding his stomach and I just stare at him. I'm going to need to get some strong coffee into him.

"Yeah."

"Wouldn't that…wouldn't that make him _your_ brother too?"

Ew. He thinks my _brother_ tried to kiss me. Just…no.

"No. We adopted Ally when she and I were twelve. Jimmy's her biological brother. And…I guess he's like a brother to me too."

He slaps his hand on my ancient dashboard as he looks up at the restaurant in front of him. "Come on, Swan, let's go get those pancakes."

He scrambles out of the truck quickly, but I easily run to catch up with him and grab on to his arm as he sways.

At the Pancake House, Edward tries to order fried eggs and bacon—hangover cure food—but I won't let him.

"You'll throw that up."

"I need the grease."

"Trust me. That's morning after food, not still-drunk-food."

"Morning after?" he smirks.

"Shut up."

"Fine. You order for me."

The waitress walks up to take our order, warily eyeing Edward. I'm not sure if she's checking him out or wondering if he'll throw up in her section, but I won't let either occur.

"Two large iced waters. Two coffees. The banana pancake stack with peanut butter. And strawberry pancakes with coconut." Edward makes a face so I correct myself. "Wait. No coconut."

I shut the menu and hand it to her before turning back to Edward. "So, are you back for good now?"

"Yeah," he says sheepishly. "My cousins were driving me crazy."

"I'm glad," I say with a smile. The crazy, the return of my friend, all of it makes me happy.

* * *

**A/N**: songlist of CD: 1) "The Freshman" by Verve Pipe, 1996 2) "Stuck in Moment" by U2, 2000 3) "Jeremy" by Pearl Jam, 1991 4) "I'm Gonna Be (500 miles)" by The Proclaimers, 1988, 1993 5) "Sweet Jane" by Cowboy Junkies, 1989 6) "Jane Says" by Jane's Addiction, 1988, 7) "There is a Light that Never Goes Out" by The Smiths, 1986 and 1992

The song links she emails to him: "Southern Rain" by Cowboy Junkies, "Just Breathe" by Pearl Jam, "Ocean Size" by Jane's Addiction (the lyrics he quotes to her while drunk), "Don't Dream It's Over" cover version by Sixpence None the Richer, "William, it was Really Nothing" by The Smiths, "Mirror People" by Love and Rockets, "In Quiet Rooms" by Dramarama

Yes, they're not all nineties songs in the CD he makes her, but close enough.]


	5. Chapter 5: Pliant

**Chapter Five**

**Word Prompt-Pliant; Dialogue Flex: "I miss you," she said.**

_Written on the body,_ I scribble the title of a book we're reading in English. _Written on the body are the secrets of who we are. Invisible ink tattooed pore to pore. The words flow, seamless, in another language on you. Ancient. Not interpretable. Illegible, even, except for three short words in indelible ink. I missed you. _

"What are you writing?" Edward asks, leaning over our lab table. I shut my notebook quickly, but not quickly enough.

"Is that about me?"

"No." Denial. It's my best defense. He smiles anyway, twiddling his long thumbs as if he knows a secret. Mine.

Banner passes out modeling clay with a new assignment sheet for each table. The next stage in our botany project isn't due for another two weeks but I still wonder how I'm going to get the next set of photos of the Garry Oaks. Edward and I may be on okay terms again, but I'm uncertain how long it will last. His mood swings are giving me whiplash.

"What did we get?" I ask.

He unfolds the assignment sheet and groans, then turns the paper towards me so I can read it.

"Heart." Of course. The assignments are supposed to be random but I have a feeling Banner gave us this one on purpose. After all, creating a life-size model of the human heart is much more complicated than, say, the liver.

As if to confirm my suspicions, Banner rounds back to our able after he's done passing out the rest of the assignments. "You may need another tub," he says, thumping another batch of modeling clay before us. "Good luck to my star students," he winks.

"Ass," I mutter.

"Sorry," Edward says next to me.

"Not you!"

"I know."

"_I'm_ sorry." I apologize instead.

"Why?"

"I think Banner gave us this assignment because of me."

"Probably," he shrugs.

Edward and I actually have fun making the clay models of the heart all week in Bio. We dye the clay red and blue and make it as realistic as possible. I suppose it helps that I've already been through this section in our class—that I know the pathways that blood follows through my heart.

I have never had a problem with that before, the ins and outs of my heart are not mystery. Until now.

* * *

**A/N**: 1)_Written on the Body_ is by Jeanette Winterson. One of my favorite books is JW's _The Passion. _It's full of storytelling, poetry, and a little bit of magicorealism (do people still use that term?) all set in the time of Napoleon, and partially set in Venice.

2) The mood swings line is paraphrased from the original _Twilight_, though I'm sure you all knew that.

3) I know it's a short chapter. The next one will be up in a few days.


	6. Chapter 6: Roll with the Changes

**Disclaimer:** SM owns Twilight, no copyright infringement intended.

**Warning: **As stated in the beginning of this story, there will be some sensitive issues discussed later on, which may cause triggers for some. I'll put a warning prior to the chapter in question, though no graphic details will be described. There is also something else that may be considered controversial but I hope not sensationalistic. It's my reason for writing this story and I plan to treat the subject with the utmost respect it deserves. Please feel free to PM me if you have specific concerns or questions.

* * *

**Chapter 6**

**Plot generator-Idea completion: Roll with the changes**

"Here are the permission slips," Mr. Banner says, holding up a stack of bright orange papers. "These are for Thursday and Friday." He pauses to glare at me as I sneak in just after the bell. "Don't forget to turn them in or you can't join us for the field trip. And you'll get an 'incomplete' for the lab."

His words are directed at the class as a whole, but I know that they are meant for me. I slip onto my stool next to Edward and he shrugs his shoulders in greeting.

"What's he talking about?" I whisper.

"Some field trip."

"I got that much."

"U Dub. Anatomy lab."

"But what about—" Understanding dawns on me. We're not doing the dissections this year. Finally. No needlessly killed mice.

"Change of plans," Edward whispers back to me with a smile.

"Yeah."

-o0o-

It turns out that Banner does plan on doing dissections but only for those students who can't make it to the field trip or those who want extra credit. It feels like a victory, but not on _my_ part, yet I know I should be happy to finally not get an 'incomplete' in Bio.

Mrs. Jones even smiles at me conspiratorially when I'm predictably late on Thursday. She shoos me out of the front office to catch the chartered bus to U Dub. I thank her quickly and make it on the yellow school bus, tossing my permission slip to Banner who is sitting at the front as I scan the aisles for a seat.

There's a mess of copper-colored hair that I spot almost immediately. Edward lifts up his hand in a half-wave and I immediately make my way towards the empty spot next to him towards the back of the bus. I hold onto alternating seat backs as I walk through the aisle since the bus driver takes off as soon as I'm on board. I'm the last one to arrive, apparently.

My cheeks are warm—not from running to catch the bus—and I bite my lip slightly to tamper down the smile that's bursting to come out over the mere fact that Edward Cullen saved me a seat. Me. Of course his other options are the endless stream of sophomores itching to get his attention.

"Just made it," he says as he scoots over so I can join him.

"How do you know that I don't want the window?" I pause to grab onto both our seat and the one in front of us as the bus lurches slightly to the left.

"Do you?"

"Nah. Window's too dirty to draw on anyway." I plop ungracefully next to him.

"Huh." Edward takes the tip of one of his fingers and traces out his initials on the slight condensation, then peers at his finger. It's filthy.

"Thanks for saving me a spot," I say with a smile, and, not to be outdone, write my own initials below his. I wipe my finger on my jeans as I look at our work and immediately blush at the juxtaposition of our initials together. All that's needed is a heart.

* * *

**A/N: **UDub is University of Washington. I always remember that from when I first watched Cameron Crowe's movie, _Singles_, from way back when.


	7. Chapter 7: Braid, Staid, Paid

**Chapter 7**

**Word Prompt 8: braid, staid, paid**

Ally and I wait by my truck, near the entrance to school. We're on time, actually early for once but only because we had to pick up Angela for her early bird class. Which she was late for. Of course. Well, beggars can't be choosers and I made no promises when she called late last night asking for a ride. I was her best bet.

Only now Ally and I are amped up from the coffee she made to make sure we'd be awake enough for class, and we're still thirty minutes away from the first bell. We could stroll into school and wait at the lunch tables or something, but instead we are hanging out, listening to some obnoxious early morning radio show that is actually kind of funny, and waiting. I'm not sure what we're waiting for, but I think it has something to do with a boy because every time a car pulls into the long parking lot, Ally turns to see who it is. In fact, I think it has everything to do with a boy. Namely Jasper.

"He's not here yet," I say, nudging her elbow with my own, without bothering to take my hands out of my jacket because it's cold.

"Who?"

"You know who."

She smiles and rolls her eyes, either at me or herself, I'm not sure. "His sister's car is here." She nods towards a shiny, bright red car, a BMW of some sort.

"Hmm. I thought they all rode in together?"

"Yeah." She's smiling because she's on to me. Why would I know their habits?

"Maybe he _is_ here then."

"Yeah."

"Should we go in?"

Ally shrugs her shoulders, and carefully pulls her hands out of her own jacket pockets. She, at least, thought to wear gloves, even if they are fingerless. She reaches into the cab of the truck and pulls a comb out of her macramé bag. "Let me braid your hair?"

"Then I'll look like I'm ten," I laugh. "Go for it."

While Ally is braiding my hair, the parking lot starts filling up, but there is still no sign of the silver Volvo that we—_she_—are/is waiting for. I take my own hands out of my pockets and blow on my fingers while jumping up and down, noticing the puffs of smoke that come out of my mouth. They're darker than when we are just talking to each other, but they disappear just as quickly, absorbing into the atmosphere.

"Stop moving, Bella, I'm almost done."

"Yeah," I say, in a deeper voice to see how thick the smoke will look. "Yeeeeah."

Ally finishes placing the hair tie around the end of my braid, then pats her handiwork. "Hhhhhuhhhh," she says, giggling, examining her own cloud that forms.

"Remember when we used to do this in grade school?" I say.

We laugh and see who could keep their puffs of smoke around the longest. She wins.

"Be easier with an actual cigarette," one of the other seniors calls out to us and I immediately stick my tongue out at her, really looking like a ten-year old, I'm sure.

Most of the condensation from the truck's windows has dripped off, especially since I have the doors open to listen to the radio, but there's still a bit on the back window. I lean around Ally and trace our names and write 'BFF' next to them. Then I write our school mascot and #1. I start to write a line from one of my favorite poems when I reassess and realize that there's no more room.

"Hi Bella, Alice," Edward startles me from my finger tracings. I can see that my sister is already looking towards his brother who is loping up the parking lot to catch up. No wonder she didn't tell me they arrived—she got distracted. Or maybe she figured I really wasn't waiting for them either.

"Hey."

"You're early."

"There's a first for everything, right?"

Jasper has caught up and greets Ally and me, then the four of us wander into school together. On time and smiling. I notice Ally boldly grab one of Jasper's hands and she laces her gloved ones with his. I'm not so brave or certain so my hands remain securely in my jacket pockets.

"Nice braids." Edward tugs gently on one as if we're still in grade school.

"Thanks," I say, smiling even more, if that's even possible. I think I like getting to school early.

When we leave for the day, all the condensation is gone but I can still see the watermarks from my writing, incomplete line of poetry and all. And there—in the corner of my dashboard by the driver's side—my initials with a heart around it. Not done by me.

* * *

**A/N: ** The quote Bella starts to write on her window: "We're all in the gutter but some of us are looking at the stars." Oscar Wilde from _Lady Windermere's Fan_


	8. Chapter 8: Journal

**Chapter 8**

**Word Prompt-journal**

_The Remains of the Day_

_Where the Day Takes You_

"Yes it's true we're all in a gutter/And, yes, it's true, please set me free….Time goes by so slow when you're stuck to me."

I scribble brainstorming words, lyrics I like, poems and quotes in my notebook hoping to find inspiration in them. The Love and Rockets lyrics spring to mind likely because of my half-written Oscar Wilde quote at the back of my truck. I like to make connections, see who was inspired by whom, connect the dots from one person to another. Coincidentally, it's also a song I emailed Edward when he was in Alaska.

In teeny tiny print, I copy the words of an e.e. cummings poem that I found in an anthology at the library during lunch. Though it's not outrageous, I am blushing slightly and I don't want anyone to read it over my shoulder. So, I'm slightly panicked when I'm packing up my bags after school and I can't find my special notebook in my locker or backpack. My green biology one is missing too so I backtrack to the lab in case I left them in there. I look under the table and even at Banner's desk but they're not there.

"Something wrong, Miss Swan?" I really wish he'd call me by my first name.

"Just looking for my notebook."

"I haven't seen it," Banner says.

I sigh. It's bound to turn up somewhere, right?

"Good job on the Anatomy section, by the way," he adds, as if it hasn't been a point of contention between us for years. I leave the classroom half-disappointed, half-shocked that he actually complimented me.

"Thank your friend," Banner calls out after me. For what? Does he credit Edward for me passing the Anatomy section?

At the parking log, Edward is leaning on the bed of my truck. It's becoming a common occurrence between our families—waiting before or after school for one another, but still it makes me smile.

"Can I catch a ride?"

"Sure." We're headed to the same place anyway, since the second part of our Botany section project needs to be done. "But what about your car? Won't you have to come back for it?"

"My brother borrowed it to take your sister home. He'll come back for Rose."

"She wouldn't ride with them?" I wouldn't be surprised. As much as the boys have taken to Ally and me, Rosalie is still full of glares for both of us.

Edward laughs off my question. "No, she has cross-country."

I open the passenger side of my truck for him first and he pauses to pull something out of his backpack before climbing in. My notebooks.

"You forgot these in Bio," he says, handing them to me, not looking me in the eye.

"Thanks, I, uh, I've been looking all over for them. Wait." I turn them over and over in my hands before stuffing them in my own bag. "Did you…did you look through these?"

He tosses his bag in the truck and climbs up, staring at my dashboard. "Uh, what?"

"Did you read my journal?"

"No. I mean, I just checked to see if they both were yours."

I stare at him, uncertain how much he 'checked' out. And could I really blame him? Would I have read his notebook unknowingly if the tables had been turned?

We ride in silence all the way to the ferry. Once on the boat, Edward points out various sites to me. It's a lot sunnier than the last day I went to his house on the island and I admire the seabirds flying around us, the gentle lapping of the water, the glimpse of a seal in the water, the bright reflection of rays along the dark sea.

"I called in a favor," Edward says suddenly. I am confused until I realize that he is telling me something secret, likely in reciprocation for accidentally reading my journal.

"Okay."

"I mean—my dad teaches residents at UDub, at the medical school."

"Oh? Oh. He's friends with the Anatomy Professor?"

"Yeah."

"He let our class in to see the bodies?"

"Yeah."

Huh. It's not a huge secret; it's an admission of _something_, a favor that happened to help me out. Or helped me out _on purpose_ because I didn't have to boycott dissecting the mice. No wonder he was all smiles that day on the bus. He had a secret mission going on.

"Thank you," I whisper. No wonder Banner was so smug earlier. Either way, I'm passing Bio; I can't really complain.

"I like to write down poems sometimes," I admit as we are both staring out at the ripples of water surrounding the ferry. "Like this one." I take out my notebook and open it to the last page. "I'm not sure how it makes me feel…and, I kind of like that."

Edward reads semi-silently to himself, his lips forming the words but not loud enough for me to decipher. He's smiling, though, maybe to himself, maybe to me. Instead of feeling embarrassed, I feel a strong sense of relief, as if we are the only two people out on the water, buoys on the sea, sharing the open space and waiting for whatever comes next, or for wherever the day takes us.

* * *

**A/N**: 1) _The Remains of the Day_ is a book by Kazuo Ishiguro. 2) _Where the Day Takes You_ (1992) is a film about homeless teens in LA. 3) Lyrics quoted are from "Mirror People" by Love and Rockets. 4) The e.e. cummings poem Bella copies into her journal is "i like my body" (see below). 5) I don't own any of these things, nor do I own Twilight.

i like my body when it is with your  
body. It is so quite new a thing.  
Muscles better and nerves more.  
i like your body. i like what it does,  
i like its hows. i like to feel the spine  
of your body and its bones, and the trembling  
-firm-smooth ness and which i will  
again and again and again  
kiss, i like kissing this and that of you,  
i like, slowly stroking the, shocking fuzz  
of your electric fur, and what-is-it comes  
over parting flesh… And eyes big love-crumbs,

and possibly i like the thrill

of under me you so quite new


	9. Chapter 9: Rumors

**Chapter 9**

**Dialogue Flex: ****"I can't believe you haven't figured it out yet," he said.**

Rumors swirled across the school almost the first hour that the Cullens arrived. They came in waves, each more scandalous than the last, no doubt fueled by their propensity to keep to themselves. Except for Ally and me, the trio doesn't seem to befriend anyone. Or vice versa. It's not all that surprising. It's a small school, and it's our senior year. We're all biding time.

There's a qualification to my statement, or several actually. Rosalie does not talk to anyone except her brothers, unless it's necessary. Edward is friends with my sister and me. Jasper is much more open, but the other students are wary of him, eyeing several scars lining up and down his arms. Some say they are track marks, but they are too large in places for me to believe that they are. His skin is marred, swirled in places, like a healed burn. Other spots look like the same size of a cigarette butt. None are fresh or new. And there are no marks on his sister's porcelain skin.

This last part is significant because all three Cullens are adopted, and Jasper and Rosalie are twins who came from a different family than Edward. Not rumor, but truth, since Edward told me himself.

Edward and I are setting up for the next shot of the sentinels AKA the Garry Oak trees that line the road leading to his house. He's lying on his belly in the middle of the road with the camera in both hands and I'm watching for oncoming cars, or at least that's what I'm supposed to be doing. Instead, I'm watching his dark blue tee shirt slide up, exposing the sliver of elastic of his boxers above his jeans. My eyes trace the handful of scars on his arms, near his hands, over his veins. They're darker, more prominent than Jasper's scars.

_Are those track marks?_ One of the rumors is that the boys got kicked out of their last school for using. Or dealing. Or using with the principal's son. Or that someone caught one or both of them in the janitor's closet, with their sister. Yeah, the rumors go as far as that.

Like most rumors, the fiery words die down in a matter of hours, the strands grasping only so far, then withdrawing their thorny, brittle fingers.

"Why did you leave Chicago?" I ask.

Edward looks up, eyebrows furrowed, confusion evident. He snaps one picture, then says, "I think we might need the tripod." He doesn't answer my question.

I grab the equipment and bring it to him. "Are you sure you want to keep these?" he asks as I'm checking the shots on the digital camera.

"We agreed—one from each of ours."

Although we turned in the first part of our Botany assignment separately, Banner let us combine the second part after we decided to work together.

"The Dogwood is in bloom."

"You can't have those and the birch trees—"

"But the bark—"

"I know; it's photogenic. But it doesn't necessarily show a big life cycle."

He concedes and we finish the shots of the Garry Oaks. In the bright sunshine, they are not as foreboding as I depicted in my initial shots, but the dark knobby branches contrast perfectly with the sunshine blue sky.

After a long silence, he passes the camera to me. I want a close-up of one of the budding leaves so I pass it back to him and attempt to scramble up the tree trunk, but my upper body strength is pretty much nonexistent. Finally, Edward boosts me up as I pull up and manage to side sit on a low branch. He carefully hands me the camera and I capture it—the tiniest amount of light green peeking out of a shoot.

"What have you heard?" Edward asks as I hand the camera back. He places it at the base of the tree and looks up at me as I continue to sit on the branch.

I shrug my shoulders. "Expulsion. Drug arrest. Incest. The usual."

He laughs, shaking his head.

"Not that I believe any of it," I say hurriedly, wanting to assure him.

"I can't believe you haven't figured it out yet," he says. He contemplates my silence for a moment before starting, "It's, well, it's not really just my story to tell. Rose—well—I guess all three of us wanted to start over. And, we didn't want to wait 'til the end of the year."

Of course. They're all seniors, like me. They would have been leaving Chicago soon enough for college.

"Why the rush?"

He shakes his head. "Some things are better left unsaid."


	10. Chapter 10: Iron

**Chapter 10**

**Word Prompt—Iron**

For the first time ever, even though they've been at school for more than a month, someone besides the Cullens sits at their lunch table. Me. Though the other Cullens—the blonde ones—are nowhere to be found and maybe that's what makes me brave. That and the fact that Edward snuck up behind me in the lunch line, paid for my food, then grabbed my drink and cardboard tray and steered me directly to his table.

"Um, thanks?" I say as I follow him.

"Want to have lunch together?" he smiles.

There aren't that many seniors around; the day is grey and misty and most have likely found a spot indoors. I grab some napkins and wipe down the bench before sitting down and Edward follows suit across from me.

He steals my fries and plays with the bottle cap of my Snapple and we talk about music and lyrics and which lines sound like poetry. Small droplets of water nestle into his spiked up hair, not really meshing into the over-gelled auburn brown strands.

"Why so much product?" I say, laughing as I reach over and try to run my fingers through the mess. He dodges me, but not before I am somewhat successful.

"Ew," I say, wiping off the gel-water combination on my plaid uniform skirt. It's made of a strange blend of polyester and doesn't soak up anything.

"Jasper dared me."

"It still looks disheveled."

"I know," he shrugs. "That's why I don't usually bother."

I attempt to smooth over some of the droplets again but this time he's successful in his dodging.

"You have some mist too," he says, tracing two fingers through a lock of my hair that is likely frizzing up with the weather. I blush at our attempts at flirting. Is that what this is?

"Hey, Romeo," Rosalie plops her lunch down and sits next to Edward. She ignores me and then whispers something in Edward's ear. He frowns and nods his head.

Of course, the moment is gone. The lightness dissipates with the mist. Or Rosalie's appearance.

Rosalie continues to eat her lunch quietly and opens up a book, saying not a word to me. Edward, on the other hand, stands up and gathers his trash.

"I'm sorry, B, I have to go."

"Okay. I'll see you in Bio next period?" _Keep it light. Don't let it bother you._

"No, I'm, uh, ditching the rest of the day."

"Ditching?"

"Yeah. It's healthy to ditch once in a while."

"Okay."

"Um," he hesitates. "Do you want to join me?"

This makes me smile despite the fact that his sister turns to glare at his request. "Nah." I wave him off. "I'm finally off Banner's shit list."

Besides, I'm still eating my chicken sandwich and I'll be damned if I let Rosalie Cullen scare me away after Edward invited me to sit at their table. Rosalie and I spend the rest of the hour reading books and ignoring each other.

-o0o-

Banner passes sets of cards down the aisles and a box of non-latex gloves. It isn't until the lancets are placed two by two on the table that I figure out what we're doing, sort of. Either we're stabbing each other repeatedly with five-millimeter needles, testing our blood sugar levels, or blood typing. Either way, I'd likely end up on the floor. I don't do well with blood. Something about the metallic smell and bright red color makes me light-headed.

Edward was right; sometimes it _is_ healthy to ditch.

"Um, Mr. Banner?" I say quietly though I try to raise my voice over the classroom din. There's ringing in my ears and I feel flushed already. "I think…" I sway slightly and grip the edge of the table. A curly-haired girl from the table next to mine slides next to me and holds me up.

"Jenna, can you take Isabella to the front office?" Banner calls over to her when he realizes what is happening. She puts her arm around me and we make it to the door without incident. As soon as I breathe in the fresh air, I'm feeling much better but I sit down on one of the benches outside of class, just in case. Jenna is not much bigger than I am and I doubt she could catch me if I were to fall.

"Are you okay?" she asks.

"Yeah. Just give me a minute." I wave her off and then ask her to bring my bag out to me, as I'm certain I cannot return to the classroom.

Jenna is quick—maybe she wants to be able to get back to the lab, maybe she's really concerned that I'll faint, but she's out with all of my stuff in mere seconds.

"Thank you," I say.

"Um, I can walk you to the office?"

"I'll be okay."

"Still. I'd feel better if I do."

I smile and stand slowly, taking deep breaths. Definitely much better in the fresh air. We make it to the front door of the office before we're stopped.

"What happened?" Edward is running up behind us, seemingly out of nowhere.

"Nothing," I say just as Jenna says, "She fainted."

I roll my eyes. "I'm okay. Just gonna…head home maybe."

"I got her," Edward dismisses Jenna.

"It's fine, thanks," I say gratefully. Jenna looks back and forth between us and then hands _my _backpack to Edward instead of me.

"What are you doing here?" I ask once she's out of earshot. "What happened to ditching?"

"I was in my car, listening to music." He smirks for a moment then it falters. "I saw you sitting on the bench, outside lab."

"Yeah, me and blood don't mix so well," I joke.

"I can see that," he responds without asking me about lab. He must have known what we were going to do before he ditched. "Let's get you out of here."

Edward performs some sort of voodoo magic on Mrs. Jones—_Mrs. Jones_, my semi-arch nemesis—because we are in and out of the front office quickly with permission for me to go home.

"Your keys?" he asks me, even though he's holding my backpack.

"I can drive."

"You just fainted."

"Almost."

"Whatever."

"Front pocket." I reach over and hand him the keys. "What about your car?"

"I can have Jasper pick me up."

"Are you inviting yourself over to my house?" I ask as we both climb into the truck.

"Whatever, Swan. I'm driving you home."

* * *

**A/N:** Sorry for not posting this sooner this week-I've been sick. Please leave a review, anyway?


	11. Chapter 11: Crest

**Chapter 11**

**Prompt-Crest**

The next day I find another CD in my locker. The boy's got skills for breaking into my locker, I'll give him that. "Not on an empty stomach" is scrawled across the front. Neatly, of course, in perfect cursive writing. I roll my eyes, yet wonder what songs he must have burned on it.

Yesterday at my house, he scrolled through my music library on my computer 'tsking' and criticizing some choices while asking more about others he wasn't as familiar with. It was fun until my mom came home early, courtesy of Mrs. Jones.

When she saw that I was fine, she made a big show of introducing herself to Edward, then returned with a big plate of cookies and two glasses of milk as if Edward was here on a playdate instead of ditching school to hang out with me. "Since you almost fainted," she trilled. Cookies and milk are her answer to everything. Or Mexican hot chocolate, but that's usually reserved for when Jimmy is here.

She even made a big show of making sure that my bedroom door was _wide_ open when she left with a giggle. Yeah, that's not embarrassing.

-o0o-

With our alternating schedule, we have Bio before lunch. I assume that I shouldn't play the CD before then. I tuck it into my bag anyway. Edward is already seated by the time I arrive.

"Feeling better, Miss Swan?" Banner asks as I walk in. He almost looks apologetic. _Almost_. It's not as if he planned to make me queasy, so I shrug and nod my head. Despite the fact that this is my third year taking Bio, we've never done blood typing. I guess after taking our Anatomy field trip, Banner decided it was time to change up the curriculum a bit. Hopefully I won't have to make up that particular lab.

"You and Mr. Cullen can compile the class composites since you both missed lab," he says, almost as if reading my mind.

As I approach our table, Edward stands up to greet me, smirking, but ever the gentleman.

"Find something in your locker today?"

"Yeah, but I haven't had a chance to listen to it yet."

"You mean 'watch'."

"Oh, it's a DVD?"

"Just a short clip."

"Why didn't you just send me a link to it?"

"Maybe it's not on youtube."

"Oh."

"Or maybe I'm just old school."

Edward makes a grid with all the blood types listed so he can compile the list while Banner lectures us about different types of blood proteins and incompatibilities.

_What's your blood type, Swan?_ Edward scrawls on the margin of his notebook.

I raise one of my eyebrows in question. _Why?_

_So I can add you to the list._

_Do you know yours?_ My handwriting looks loopy and small next to his but I like the juxtaposition. Just like our initials on the school bus window. Side by side with an invisible heart.

_O positive,_ he writes underneath my question.

_I'm O negative. We're opposites._

He neatly marks tallies for each of us in the respective spots then responds to me. _Not really—if we were opposites, you'd be AB negative._

Huh. I guess I better pay attention to Banner's lecture. Instead of doing so however, I start to wonder how Edward knows his blood type. I've been to the ER multiple times due to the fact that I was so accident-prone when I was younger. What would make him know his?

-o0o-

"You know I used to want to be a doctor?" I say as Edward and I make our way towards the cafeteria together.

"Yeah?" He's somewhat distracted, looking around at all the people gawking at us. Teenagers aren't subtle. Though, you'd think he'd be used to all the staring by now.

"Yeah or a nurse. But I broke my arm when I was eight and that was that."

"Fainted?"

"Yup."

He turns to smile at me and shake his head.

"Then when I was nine I got appendicitis….actually, I lost a quite a bit of blood and they had to open me up instead of just using those tiny camera thingies. I woke up in the recovery room and lost consciousness again when I realized they were giving me a blood transfusion. So that really sealed the deal."

"Huh. Maybe you don't want to watch that video clip I gave you then."

"What? No way, I've been curious about that all day. As soon as I scarf down my sandwich I'm going to the computer lab to check it out."

"Okay, but don't say I didn't warn you…."

"Why? Is there blood in it?"

"Just fake blood," he admits after a pause. "It's this fan video I found of all these vamp transformations. They have 'Lullaby' by The Cure playing in the background."

I laugh, remembering our discussion at my house at how I had to watch _The Lost Boys_ through my fingers while Ally and Jimmy and my own mother made fun of me.

"Here, this will keep you safe." He unties his leather cuff from around his wrist and places it on mine instead.

I finger the black leather for a moment before looking up at him. "Why? Are you part-werewolf or something?" He merely shakes his head.

We've reached Edward's table by now and I look towards my old table for a second, uncertain if I'm welcome here all the time or by invitation only.

"What are you waiting for?" Edward asks as he pulls out his lunch from his bag and sets it down in front of him. My happiness makes me forget my segue into telling him that the appendix surgery is how I found out that I'm O negative.

-o0o-

"Where did you get that?" Rosalie asks as she slams her books down on the table where I'm sitting. Conveniently—for her—she arrives right when Edward is at the soda machine, making me feel very _un_welcome at the Cullen table.

She's glaring at the leather cuff that's replaced my vintage yellow bangle on my left wrist. The cuff is way too big for my wrist, and the leather is well-worn, but I love that it smells just a little bit like Edward. I trace the ivory-colored cameo lion briefly before looking up at her. "Is that a rhetorical question?"

She knows that it's Edward's cuff, I know that she knows it.

"No," she spits out. She sits down across from me. "Do you know that that's the Cullen Crest?"

"Yes." Edward told me all about how each of them were presented with a piece of jewelry with the crest on it when their adoptions were completed. Rosalie has a delicate chain on her neck with a much smaller version of the lion on a pendant, surrounded by a few diamonds. I've never seen Jasper's crest, but I assume he's more subtle about it.

"Meet me after school," Rosalie says before quickly gathering her things and walking away. I have no time to answer her demand, but I'm not about to say no.

**A/N:** The fan video isn't real but I've seen some great Twilight fanvids online.


	12. Chapter 12: Red

******Warning:** Though there is nothing graphically described, the following chapter may contain some triggers for some people.

* * *

**Chapter 12 **

**Prompt: Red**

Rosalie is at the end of the school's driveway wearing a cross-country shirt and running shorts. I dump my books in the bed of my truck before shimmying out of my uniform skirt; good thing I always wear shorts or leggings underneath. I exchange my teal-colored mary jane's for the pumas in my bag and tie a small knot at the end of my button down. This will have to do.

She nods at me as I join her and then we take off running, somewhat behind the clusters of her teammates who have started their practice on time. I'm not sure where Edward is, or if the boys run separately from the girls.

We're silent for the first few blocks or so. I have to be as I am winded. I'm not out of shape but I'm not a runner like she is.

"I don't hate you, you know," Rosalie finally says to me as she slows to my pace. I'm holding one side and walking quickly instead of jogging now. None of the pack is near us or can hear our conversation.

"Hmm," I respond.

"I don't."

"Okay."

"Did Edward tell you why we left Chicago?"

Her words make me stop in my tracks. Is she really going to tell me? "No. He said—"

"He said it wasn't just _his_ story, right?"

I nod.

She looks beyond my shoulder and seems to stand up straighter before continuing. "I was raped."

My eyes are huge, I'm sure. I'm not sure what I was expecting her to say, but it wasn't this. And I didn't really expect her to share something so…personal, so traumatic with me. I have no words.

"It wasn't my fault," she pauses, and it's right then that I'm certain that she knows this as truth. No one—no _victim_—could ever be blamed for rape. "It was a group of guys, led by Jasper's ex-girlfriend's brother."

What the fuck? A _group_. "I'm sor—I don't know what to say." I stop myself from apologizing; she's likely heard it enough and _I_ didn't do anything.

"It was an act of revenge." Rosalie is still looking over my shoulder, not really in my eyes, but I know that she's sincere. She's sparing me the details.

"Revenge?"

"A misunderstanding about my brothers."

"What are you saying?"

"It doesn't matter. Just—Edward really seems to like you," she says slowly. "And I think you're good for him." She takes off running again at a much brisker pace than I could ever hope to hold up so I don't even bother trying. I'm left with my mouth gaping, completely turned upside down. I'm not even sure what Rosalie was trying to tell me, but there's one thing I_ do_ know. Edward and I need to talk.


	13. Chapter 13: Follow, Hollow, Swallow

**A/N:** Sorry for the delay in posting-I thought I'd have time before leaving for my vacation last Wednesday. I'm posting from my hotel room. :D

**Warning:** Though nothing graphic is described, some of the content below may contain triggers for some people.

* * *

**Chapter 13**

**Prompt: Follow, Hollow, Swallow**

When I make it back to campus, I'm completely filthy. Somehow in my shocked state, I am extra clumsy and have tripped more than a few times. And—surprising or not—another Cullen is waiting for me, actually sitting on the open door of my truck bed, legs long enough that they are not dangling from the edge like mine would be.

"She told you," Edward says as I walk up and I simply nod my head. "I assume you have questions."

He holds his hand out to me but I am reluctant to take it. Why? I'm not sure. Rosalie has given me such little information and I don't know what her motivations are for sharing something like that with me. I realize it must have been hard for her to be so open, yet I still have no idea what happened.

I follow him anyway to the line of trees that border the east side of campus, beyond the parking lot. The ground is soft and pliable under my feet, green and brown pine needles squishing into its wetness from the recent rain.

"Is it true?" I ask.

Edward pulls a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lights one of them before answering. "There were four of them. It…was my fault."

I scowl at his answer. "How can it be your fault? Rosalie doesn't even blame herself, much less you…"

He takes a deep breath and puts out his cigarette even though he's barely smoked it. "Bella, I'm…I'm sick. I'm not dying but I have to take medicines. I shouldn't even be smoking."

"Okay. What does that have to do with anything?"

"I'm getting there." He gestures to one of the large rocks against a boulder, which are covered in a thin layer of water. "Can we sit?"

I untie the knot in my uniform button down shirt and pull it over my leggings; hopefully it will get most of the dirt.

"When I say I'm sick, I mean long term. Some of—"

"What?" I interrupt.

"Let me get through this first," he requests. "Some of the guys, including Maria's brother found out. Maria was Jasper's girlfriend. Her brother assumed my siblings were sick too and confronted Jasper and me. Well, there was something of a fight and lots of bleeding…." He laughs momentarily but it's a bitter laugh. "_That _should have scared them off. While Jasper and I were in the ER, they went after Rose."

"Edward, this doesn't make sense."

"I know," he says ruefully. "They're fucking crazy."

"Why would they be so upset that you're sick?"

"Because, well, technically my doctors wouldn't call me sick. But, I'm HIV positive."

My jaw drops. I can't help it. It's just so unexpected.

"I have been since I was born, but I'm on medications and am healthy. Somehow…somehow those _four_ thought that….Look, it's not that I've been trying to hide it from you. It's just a lot of people tend to…_judge_ me for it-"

His words catch up to my brain or my brain catches up to his words in a sudden rush. _Blood everywhere. Ditching is healthy. Taking medications. HIV Positive. _My_ fault._

"Wait," I interrupt even though he asked me not to earlier. "If you…if you've had it since…I mean, if you've been HIV positive since you were born, does that mean you inherited it?"

"Not exactly. I mean, it's not 'heritable' but I did get it from the woman who gave birth to me. Vertical transmission."

I notice he doesn't use the word 'mom' or 'birth mother'. I know he and his siblings are adopted but I guess I never considered the _woman_ who gave birth to him. I circle my arms around him and scoot closer to him on the rock. He, on the other hand, leans away from my embrace, shrugging my arms off. But I can be persistent and I turn his head to face me. "Edward," I say. "It doesn't matter to me."

-o0o-

I turn the water to the highest setting I can stand, letting the almost scalding drops wash away the grime. I can still feel it on my skin, however, and underneath my fingernails, coalescing and congealing, growing exponentially. I imagine lines not unlike veins, growing like vines or like a beanstalk across my fiberblast cells, twisting and turning and intertwining until I am suffocating. No longer recognizable. No longer me.

I wonder if this is what Rose felt like that night…that night that…well, that night that changed her, that night that changed everything. Suddenly I can understand why she is so overprotective of her brothers. Why she's overprotective of herself.

The water runs cold, seemingly in stages, and I shut the tap off. I don't even bother squeezing the excess water from my hair, just wrap my pale yellow towel around myself.

The steam from my excessive shower is thick, my image in the mirror indecipherable. I pause for only a moment, before taking one of my wrinkled fingers to the glass, and tracing my own silhouette. When that's done, I fill in the outline with my palm so that I can see only me in the reflection. Exactly me. My hair looks darker, of course, rivulets of water streaming from clumped strands down my torso and arms. My skin is pale, completely devoid of make-up, with slightly purplish bags underneath my eyes courtesy of my allergies and my tendency to stay up too late. My body is still damp, but I am whole. I am still me.


	14. Chapter 14: Bar

**A/N:  
**I apologize for the long delay between chapters. I was on unintentional hiatus and plan to pick up the story with current witFit prompts. In the spirit of witFit, I'm going to attempt to finish up the story by posting 2-3 times/week. This chapter was from one of the older prompts since it was already written.

**Mini recap:** The Cullens (Edward/Jasper/Rosalie) start at a new school where Alice and Bella are attending. Bella and Edward are thrown together in Biology class, which Bella is repeating for the third time. In the last few chapters, Rose revealed that they left their last school because she was gang raped. Edward blames himself for the assault because the assailants had found out that he is HIV positive.

* * *

**Chapter 14**

**Word Prompt: Bar**

I watch as Ally helps a nervous four-year-old onto the high bar. Ally spots her around her waist and lifts her up the few extra inches that she needs. The high bar for this class is roughly the height of the kid's, but the little girl is cautious nonetheless. She beams up at Ally after she manages to swing for a few moments then scampers over to the parallel bars set up amongst cushions to do her bear crawl with the rest of the class. Her smile is toothy with a wide gap in the middle—and _that_, that right there would be what my adopted sister-slash-best friend would say is what keeps her coming back.

Ally has been assistant coaching for years ever since multiple knee injuries prevented her from continuing on the gymnastics team. Jimmy and I used to tease her all the time that she wouldn't be so runty if she hadn't continued with the sport for so long.

"Hey, B," someone calls out as he plops into the seat next to me and places his arm around me. I'd know that voice anywhere. I turn my head and ruffle my hand through Jimmy's blond-spiked hair.

"Speak of the devil," I say.

"Daydreaming about me again?"

"You wish." We sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes while watching Ally teach her class. "So, what are you doing here, JJ?"

"Are you ever going to call me James?" he says with a smirk.

I roll my eyes. "Okay, James."

"How are you doing, B?"

"You came all the way here to ask that?"

"Seriously."

"Ally told you."

"Ally told me that you and your boyfriend had a fight."

"He's not my boyfriend. And…we didn't have a fight."

"Whatever you say, Bella." He pats me lightly on the arm in his usual smug way and I want to scream, but don't want to scare all the little ones at the gym. I wonder what Ally told him, or what she told Jasper. Maybe Jasper is the one who said something to her? Does Edward think I'm mad at him?

It's useless, the way my mind is spinning. I don't think Ally knows that Edward is HIV positive, or what happened with Rose. She would have said something to me, but instead has been silent all weekend. Just like I've been silent all weekend with Edward. Or he has been with me. However you want to put it, we haven't spoken since his revelation in the woods.

Despite the fact that I told him that it doesn't matter to me, it does. Though, not in the way he's likely assuming. Or not assuming. Who knows anything when you're not talking to each other.

"Your mind is going a mile a minute," James says, knowing me so well.

"I know. I'm sorry. What are you doing here anyway?"

"Ally asked me to come; she wants me to meet her boyfriend."

"Oh."

"Yup. And you're coming too."


End file.
